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Fuck! I jump a mile. “Yup! All good!”
“You can stay in there as long as you want, we won’t run out of hot water,” Cain informs me.
“Great, thanks!” I wonder if he can tell I’m hiding from them.
Probably. These men aren’t stupid.
I practically hold my breath until I hear Cain walk away, and then I let it out slowly. Okay. This is fine. This is a complication. My feelings are complicated. That’s fine. I can handle whatever comes my way. Even if it’s these three… mates. Or not mates. I’m still not sold on this mate thing.
I just have to keep my wits about me. I can’t let pretty faces distract me. Just because they’re loyal to me, or seem to be, doesn’t mean they aren’t hiding things.
We’re going to have to get me some new clothes, too, I realize as I step out of the shower and grab a towel. I’ve just got the ones I was wearing before. If the guys have a laundry system in here, I can just wash those clothes for tomorrow. That should be fine, but if we end up having to camp out here for a while…
I’m wrapped up in my thoughts about laundry and planning as I step out of the bathroom, still just wrapped in my towel.
But my forward momentum is broken suddenly as I bump into Cain.
We both freeze, the two of us standing in the hallway, staring at each other. I usually don’t really care about my state of dress—or undress—but suddenly, I’m painfully aware that I’m just in a towel, my skin still flushed and damp from the water.
Cain’s eyes track down my body, and I can see his eyes growing darker as he takes me in. I shiver, heat rising in me. I try to stamp it out, ignore it. I was just worrying about these men. I can’t go jumping back into bed with them.
Even though I really, really want to.
“Um.” I hold up my clothes. “Do you guys have a way for me to wash these?”
“Yeah, we have a washer and dryer in the closet.” Cain pauses. “You’ll have to be in that for about an hour, though. Unless… we have some spare clothes lying around.”
His voice is rough, a bit strangled, like he’s trying hard to hide how much the idea turns him on. And now the idea’s turningmeon—the idea of wearing clothes that are slightly too big for me, that smell like the men—or just lying around in a towel and tempting them—
I don’t know which idea is hotter, to be honest.
Cain’s staring at me like he’s going to devour me. I have got to keep this conversation on track. Or walk away. But I can’t seem to get my legs to work. “The—the guy. Back at the market. Magician sorcerer tattoo guy.”
Cain raises an eyebrow, looking amused. “Very eloquent.”
“Oh, hush.” I glare at him. It’s his fault I’m stumbling over my words. And he knows it. “You all knew him.”
“Yes. We’d gotten help from him before with some small magical issues. His specialty is concealment.” Cain looks away, and I swear I can see fire sparking in his eyes, actual demonic fire, like he’s imagining setting the man ablaze and is wishing he hadn’t let him live.
“We used him for a few jobs in the past. Just little things. We needed an invisibility spell added to a jacket, that kind of thing. Nothing major. We like to test people out with a few smaller jobs before we trust them with anything really big. So far he’d been legit.” Cain’s lip curls up. “But I guess the lure of the reward was too much.
“It’s our fault. We should’ve shown him how powerful we were from the start. We like it when people underestimate us, but if he’d been properly afraid of us then he never would’ve dared try to betray us and turn you in.” Cain looks back at me. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” I point out. “You can’t read minds and you only met me yesterday. How were you supposed to plan for something that you didn’t even know was going to happen? You were being smart and protecting yourself. You can’t blame yourself for that.”
Cain gives a small smile. “Thank you. You’re gracious.”
“I’m kind of the opposite of gracious,” I point out. “Look, I get that you’re convinced I’m your fated mate. But I don’t want you thinking that I’m better than I am. I don’t want to… to disappoint you.”
After all, if their expectations are low, then I don’t have to worry about letting them down.
“Aww, you worried about your reputation?” Cain teases me. He reaches up and moves some of my still-damp hair back behind my shoulder. He’s not touching me, but I can feel the warmth of his hand.
It takes a lot not to shiver in response. It’s hard to hide how easily these men turn me on.
“I don’t have a reputation to worry about,” I shoot back.
Cain’s fingers trail along my shoulder, and I swallow. Cain grins. “You can admit you want me.” He winks.
